


Greetings From Alaska

by killingsaray



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Blood Kink, F/F, Hate Fuck, NSFW, PWP without Porn, Season 3 Opener, They Feel, they fight, they fuck, utter fucking FILTH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: Recovered from her gunshot wound, Eve finds Villanelle hiding out in Alaska. And, oh boy, does trouble ensue.OR“ “Missed me?” Villanelle’s voice tickled her ear.Eve pushed against the door, trying to free herself. Villanelle wrenched her arm tighter against her back. She was enjoying every second of this. And Eve hated it. ”





	1. Old Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> Part I of II. Put the children to bed. This is not for them.

_“I loved her. I still love her, though I curse her in my sleep, so nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devastating emotions that control man, nations, life.”_

_-Edgar Rice Borroughs_

“ _Got you_.” Eve whispered to her computer screen. She paused the image from a grainy security camera and zoomed in as much as she could without distorting the already terrible quality. Without a doubt, it was Villanelle, one hand deep inside a bag of—.

 _Were those fucking Cheetos?_

Eve’s eyes squinted at the screen, trying to decipher just how low Villanelle had stooped in her mission to avoid attracting attention with her normal lifestyle. 

Satisfied grin on her face, Eve balled her hands into fists and tapped them against the table in triumph. 

It was ingenious of her, really, the way she’d gotten Villanelle to reveal herself. 

Before shooting her, Villanelle had talked about running away to Alaska with Eve. So that was where she started. Alaska Premier auction house began to advertise a macabre collection of artifacts from infamous female murderers. Eve preyed on Villanelle’s jealousy, truth be told, and the young blonde took the bait: hook, line and sinker. 

She’d sent a proxy, of course; a young, unwitting young man that she’d paid in cash to bid on her favorite items. Each item sold was fit with a tracking device. It had actually been easier than Eve expected. After weeding out the plain old fanatics from the real thing, Eve focused her attention on three locations. Two were hotels. 

The other?

A small cabin ten miles from civilization.

The nearest place to pick up a package?

A mom-and-pop-run post office in the center of a tiny Alaskan town: Russian Mission. 

Population: 335. 

Naturally, the post office had the most outdated security cameras known to man, but it was enough for Eve to watch as Villanelle came to claim her items.

It hadn’t been a walk in the park either. Once Eve had recovered in hospital from her gunshot wound, she had a lot to answer for. 

Carolyn, still trying to play the good guy, spun the events of Rome into a lovely little tale for her bosses. Villanelle killed Aaron Peele and Raymond, kidnapped Eve and was going to force her to do her bidding and as Eve tried to escape, Villanelle tried to kill her too. 

Eve was worth more to Carolyn alive than dead. She was Villanelle’s one and only weakness, and truthfully, the only one who could _truly_ get inside Villanelle’s mind. 

Still, she was on Carolyn’s shit list and had to practically _beg_ for the funding for this operation. In the end, as she always did, Carolyn made it seem like her idea and gave her full permission. And Eve was left wondering if Kenny and Jess were right all along. Eve was simply a means to an end. To capture or kill Villanelle. It didn’t matter to Carolyn. As long as the young, blonde assassin was around, she would be a constant thorn in Carolyn’s side. 

And so, it was up to Eve to travel to Alaska. Mostly because no one else wanted to brave the freezing weather and whatever else awaited them at Villanelle’s doorstep. Thirty-five hours, fifteen minutes and five layovers later, Eve landed in Russian Mission, Alaska. The chill in her bones was nothing compared to the ice around her heart. She was going to end this cat and mouse game once and for all. 

Eve rented a car from the airport and began her ten mile drive from the town’s center to Villanelle’s cabin, following the blinking red tracking device on her phone. There was no time to waste. Five miles in, it began to snow. And quite heavily so. And five miles later, she turned right into a thicket of snow-covered trees and down a long, winding driveway. Eve turned off the headlights, not wanting to alert Villanelle to her presence. When she saw the A-frame log cabin in the woods, Eve scoffed.

 _How the fuck did she manage to find the single most stunning cabin in Alaska?_

Dim theater lights sprinkled the porch, giving the cabin a romantic glow. There was one more light on inside, from what Eve could see, and it was flickering; fireplace, perhaps? 

So, Eve cut the engine and exited the vehicle, shutting the door as quietly as she could. With wobbly footing in the thick snow, Eve rounded the cabin, finding the back door. She picked the lock with ease and let herself into the house. 

No sooner had she turned to shut the door behind her, there was an arm around her throat and her left arm was being twisted around her back. She cried out in pain and shock, only to be slammed against the heavy wooden door, face smashed against the glass pane.

“Missed me?” Villanelle’s voice tickled her ear.

Eve pushed against the door, trying to free herself. Villanelle wrenched her arm tighter against her back. She was enjoying every second of this. And Eve _hated_ it. With enough anger and enough force, Eve finally managed to push Villanelle off of her. She whirled around and found that the one reason she was able to overpower the younger woman was because Villanelle had taken a leisurely step backwards and was turning on her heels. She completely unafraid and unfazed by Eve’s presence. 

Almost as if… she was… expecting her. 

“Would you care for a drink?” Villanelle asked as she sauntered out of the mudroom and into the kitchen. As Eve took a moment to catch her breath, she pulled off her wool hat and gloves, taking in the high arched ceilings and crystal chandeliers. She had to admit, she was impressed with Villanelle’s choice of hideout. 

_You can keep money away from the girl, but you can’t keep the girl away from money_ , Eve mused. She followed Villanelle into the kitchen, rounding the wood and marble island to keep some distance between them. 

“Eve. You don’t call. You don’t write.” Villanelle breezed as she poured Eve a glass of champagne. Turning, her blood red lips tipped upwards in a slight smirk. Thin fingers slid the champagne flute across the island to Eve before Villanelle rested her forearms against the cool marble. “It’s almost like you didn’t want me to know you were coming.”

If she wasn’t so focused on the curve of Villanelle’s mouth or the fact that she was only wearing an oversized white sweater and not much else, Eve would have noticed the fruit and cheese plate beside her much sooner. Topped with crackers and a small cheese knife, Eve’s brows went up. 

“Don’t do that.” Villanelle warned, rounding the counter anyway. Eve was hit with the sudden feeling of déjà vu. She remembered Villanelle telling her the same thing as they sat at her dining table. Eve was a different person then. She was terrified and sad and so in awe of Villanelle. 

But she was different now. She was a murderess. Fearless, now that she knew exactly what she was capable of under the right circumstances. 

Before, she had put Villanelle on some sort of pedestal. But now? Now, they were the same. 

All it took was for Eve to think about the blinding pain she felt when that bullet pierced her flesh. The months of bed rest that followed. And in a flash, she’d snatched the knife off of the counter. Villanelle’s reflexes were quick, managing to grip Eve’s wrist. Using her free hand, Eve grabbed hold of Villanelle and pushed her backwards, slamming her back against the fridge, and pressing the knife against Villanelle’s throat. 

Eyes watering and chest heaving, Eve asked, “You _know_ I can now. I’ve done it before.”

Villanelle gazed at her as if she was seeing her for the first time. _Really_ seeing her. “Careful, Eve. I might begin to think you actually _enjoy_ penetrating me.”

Eve’s eyelashes fluttered. 

_What the fuck?_

She felt Villanelle’s hand against her side, moving her winter coat away. “Can I see it?”

“No!” Eve exclaimed, but she found that she was only half-disgusted with the request. She pushed Villanelle once more and backed away.

“I will show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Tempting, but no.” Eve deadpanned. She slipped the knife into the cargo pocket of her pants and shed her coat, setting it on the counter. 

Her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since that disgusting slop on the plane. So, she topped a wheat cracker with a slice of pepper jack cheese and a green grape and popped it into her mouth. She washed it down with a sip of champagne and hummed in delight. Villanelle, now voluntarily pressed against the fridge, watched her every move. 

“You weren’t hard to track down.”

“Maybe I was making it easy for you.”

Eve grinned. “Or maybe I’m just that good.”

Villanelle turned and opened the fridge, pulling out a full container of food. She plucked the top off and put it in the stainless steel microwave and pressed a few buttons. 

“You should know me better than that by now, Eve.” The delicious aroma of shepherds pie filled the kitchen and assaulted Eve’s senses. Her stomach grumbled loudly and Villanelle smiled.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“I didn’t.”

“How?” Eve demanded.

“Postcards and letters and trinkets from infamous female assassins just so _happened_ to come to a shitty auction house in Nowhere, Alaska?” Villanelle asked, her tone dripping with disbelief. “Sotheby’s, sure. Christie’s, perhaps. Alaska Premier Auction?” She shook her head and tsked. “That couldn’t have been a coincidence. I assume you put a tracker in the package?” It was rhetorical, of course. She’d probably already found the small bug. Crossing her arms across her chest and resting a hip against the counter, Villanelle’s head tilted to side just as the microwave dinged it’s completion. 

_Check_ , it said. And if this really was an elaborate game of chess to Villanelle, Eve had absolutely no intention of letting her win. 

“So,” Villanelle asked, pulling a dish towel off of its rack and opened the microwave, “what did you come here for? Revenge?” Using the towel, she retrieved the hot meal and placed it on the countertop. 

“I just want to have dinner with you. Pick your brain, a bit. And yeah,” confessed Eve, “maybe a little revenge.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Eve.” Villanelle said, conversationally as she pulled plates and utensils from their respective places. “I never have. I only wanted to love you.”

“You don’t know what love is. You _can’t_ love.”

Villanelle whirled on her. “You don’t know what I am capable of.”

Half of the time, Villanelle, herself, didn’t know what she was capable of until she did it. 

Yes, Villanelle knew what she was. She knew there were fundamental elements of her brain that didn’t work like the average person. Like a _normal_ person. Whatever the fuck _that_ meant. But she really felt things when she was with Eve. True, unadulterated emotions and it was the first time she’d truly felt like it was reciprocated. 

With Anna, it was all manipulation. Villanelle had been adept at making Anna feel guilty. She could pretend that she needed extra help with her languages, and if Anna refused, she could pout so prettily. Anna wanted to feel needed, to feel _wanted_ and Villanelle played on those desires. Of course, shit went south when she’d killed Anna’s husband, but good riddance. Her only regret was that she lost Anna too. After all, the ‘ _I-It’_ factor constantly reminded Villanelle that Anna was _hers_. 

Then came Eve. With her stupidly perfect hair and annoying determination and utter devotion to suppressing her own emotions when it came to Villanelle. What was _most_ frustrating about everything was that it was impossible to prove that Eve loved her too. Villanelle had tried. And had been rejected twice, now— three times, if she counted that bullshit with Jess in Amsterdam— but the fact remained: you can tell a person that they love someone. 

Now, there was just resentment between the two of them. Sure the spark was still there, but it wasn’t a positive one. If ignited, it was sure to start a fiery blaze that would end in bloodshed and perhaps even death. 

No, Villanelle didn’t _want_ to hurt Eve, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t. If it came down to it, her self-preservation would kick in and there was no telling what she would do.

Villanelle shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She slammed a plate down in front of Eve, causing her to flinch. 

“Eat.” She commanded, handing the brunette a fork. 

“Aren’t you going to have some?”

Villanelle took the fork back, scraped some food onto it and took a bite before handing it back. “Happy?”

“Not for a while.” Eve replied, digging into the food. Her eyes shut briefly at the perfectly made dish. 

“Niko’s recipe.” Villanelle offered. “How is he after the death of his beloved?”

“I’m alive and kicking.”

“Oh, not you, Eve.” She grinned. “Gemma.”

The gold fork clanged against the clear, glass plate. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Didn’t he visit you in hospital?”

“Once.” Eve divulged. 

She didn't want to tell Villanelle how she’d awaken to divorce papers on her side table and a sullen Niko sitting at her bedside. He had expressed that he couldn’t continue on this way; fearful for his life and anyone else who may enter it. Not whilst he was still attached to Eve. Villanelle, he was certain, would stop at nothing to get to her, and everyone caught in the crossfire was just collateral damage.

“Mm.” Was all Villanelle said. She grabbed the champagne bottle, another flute and left Eve to stew in the kitchen, alone. 

Eve found her in a sitting room. Two enormous wing-backed chairs faced each other in front of a roaring fire. Between them was a small, round table where Villanelle had placed the champagne. She sat in one of the chairs, staring into the fire. 

“Why are you here, Eve?”

“What?”

“Why are you here? To arrest me? To kill me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Villanelle laughed. “The day you decide what you want, Eve, I’m sure Hell will freeze over and pigs will fly.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck _you_.”

Eve rushed toward the chair, but Villanelle was up in a heartbeat. She leapt over the back of the chair and landed on Eve, legs wrapping around her waist. Eve dropped the glass of champagne she was holding and her hand reached up, twirling long blonde hair around her fist and yanking harshly. Villanelle cried out and pressed the palm of her hand against Eve’s face pushing her backwards. Eve tripped over the corner of a Persian rug and fell to her knees, Villanelle still clinging to her. They rolled once, Eve landing on top. She dealt a forceful blow to Villanelle’s cheek. The blonde’s face shot to the right. Villanelle took a moment to register the shock before she rolled them over, cocked back and backhanded Eve with such force that it drew blood from her nose.

Eve, dizzy from the power of the hit, growled deep within. Villanelle’s hands wrapped around her throat, attempting to choke her out.

Eve’s fingers scrambled to grab hold of something. _Anything_. They found purchase on the broken stem of a champagne flute. Vision blurring and breathing hard to come by, Eve flailed her arm and the glass found its way into Villanelle’s bare thigh. 

She screamed in pain, releasing Eve’s throat. The older woman coughed violently as she tried to take in breaths too great for her lungs to handle. 

“You’re going to regret that.” Villanelle warned her. 


	2. New Lovers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If blood kink/blood play makes you squeamish, turn back now. Also, I spent exactly 22 minutes scrolling through a “which CT towns look like Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls” list for the tiniest line in this story.

_“You’re going to regret that.” Villanelle warned her._

Truth be told, she already did. She had only wanted Villanelle to stop cutting off her air supply. Villanelle thigh was merely collateral damage. Eve pushed Villanelle off of her and rolled her body in order to use the floor as leverage to push herself up. She coughed a few more times, effectively making her throat feel just that much scratchier. 

Villanelle pulled the thin stem of the champagne flute out of her leg and threw it on the ground. No major arteries, thank god, but now Eve had to pay.

And honestly, who the fuck did she think she was anyway? She started this. 

The only thing Villanelle had ever wanted was to do her job. _Really well_. Eve had come looking for her all those months ago. Sure, she had brought along with her some excitement that Villanelle really hadn’t felt since Anna. But there has been so much blood since then, and not all of it had been at Villanelle’s hand. 

Still, the blonde had tried. She loved Eve the only way she knew how, and she was sure that that’s what it was because she had only ever felt it with Anna. But just like Anna, Eve rejected her. She couldn’t help that her brain was wired differently. But wasn't the whole point of love to desire someone _because_ of who they were, not _despite_ who they were?

It was a concept too powerful for even Villanelle to conquer. Love was too much like her: beautiful, complex, and possessed the ability to do both harm and good.

In a nutshell: fuck love. 

Because in the end, all love got Villanelle was stabbed. _Twice_ if she counted this new wound that she put pressure onto stop too much blood from leaving her body. 

Shakily, she got to her feet, ready to charge at Eve. They both panted like animals, rage radiating off of them like sonic waves. Eve held her neck and Villanelle cradled her thigh. 

If they were thinking logically, calling a truce would have been ideal. But they were both running off of emotion, and neither was going to stop until the other conceded. Villanelle, infuriated at the sight of her own blood, ran towards Eve. Eve sidestepped just in time to avoid a head on collision, sticking her foot out to trip Villanelle. Villanelle slammed into the oak wainscoting and Eve took that as her chance to run. She fled back to the kitchen, removing a knife from the drawer Villanelle had used earlier and turned ‘round only to come face to face with Villanelle. In the kitchen. With a gun. 

It was like a psychotic game of _Clue_ , really and the pure comedy of the situation was not lost upon Eve, who gave a wry chuckle. 

“What is so funny?”

“Is this not the most ridiculous thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Villanelle considered this, lowering the gun to concentrate. “No.”

Eve nodded. “Of course not. I almost forgot how exciting your life is.”

“Was.” Villanelle corrected and raised the gun once more. “Until you came along. That was the beginning of the end for me.”

“Oh please. You had plenty of fun manipulating me.”

“ _I_ manipulated _you_? Did you at least get to name that high horse you rode here on?”

“Yes! Yes, you had every means to kill Raymond, but you _wanted_ me to kill him. For some god-awful reason, you invited me into you world and--.”

“You _accepted_ the invitation! Quite readily, if I recall! This is _our_ world, Eve. You are much more like me than you care to believe, but I know the truth.”

“The truth is anyone is capable of murder in the right circumstances. Especially when it’s self-defense or defense of a third party. That’d be you. Raymond was going to kill you! You could have stopped him at any time.”

“At what point of him choking me could I have shot him?”

“You had ample time before he even got that close to shoot him, but you didn’t. The moment I stepped into that hallway, your plan was set in motion.”

“It was going to happen one way or another. At least this way, you were eased into it.” 

“Eased--? You think that was easy?”

“Easier than you killing just because you wanted to. Your problem, Eve,” Villanelle rounded the counter, gun still pointed directly at Eve, who stood exactly where she was, “is that you need a reason to do what you want. I don’t. If I am living this life just to die, why would I spend my time worrying about reasoning?”

The cool metal of the handgun pressed against Eve’s chest. Even through her sweater, she could feel it against her beating heart. It was the only thing keeping Villanelle away from her. For now.

“And _your_ problem is that you use your psychopathy as an excuse to act like a petulant child. When you don’t get your way, your first instinct is to kill anyone and anything that stops you from indulging in instant gratification. You say you want normal stuff, but that’s not normal.”

Villanelle looked taken aback and she dropped her arm, setting the gun on the counter beside Eve. “If I was normal, would we even be here? If I were normal,” she took one step, closing the distance between she and Eve, knife pressing against her stomach, “would you even want me?”

Eve’s breath hitched and she gripped the knife tighter. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It wasn’t a real answer, but it was as much of an admittance that she, too, was different as she was going to give.

Villanelle put a hand on Eve’s face, her anger slowly dissipating. “Why don’t you want this? Want me?”

Eve swallowed audibly. She did. Want this. Want Villanelle. It was the only thing that she was really sure of these days. 

_But_ , her mind always wondered, _to what extent?_

_Did she want everything that Villanelle offered? Did she want to be another gun for hire? Could they really settle down into what would be their own personal version of normal?_

_Or did she just want to fuck Villanelle?_ Because that’s what it really boiled down to. Just being in Villanelle’s presence made Eve’s body thrum with an unfulfilled desire to take and be taken. Anywhere. Everywhere.

And good god, the woman had such seductive energy, it was a wonder Eve had lasted this long. Villanelle walked, talked and _looked_ like she could give multiple mind-blowing orgasms and still have energy for a few more.

Villanelle’s long fingers trailed down Eve’s face, gripping her chin harshly. She expected an answer. So, Eve gave her one. She turned her face to the side, pulling out of Villanelle’s grasp before yanking at her sweater. Villanelle slapped away the hand that held the knife and along with it went any bit of space between their bodies. Her arm wrapped around Eve’s waist as it had once before in Eve’s kitchen and she looked down at the older brunette, lips twitching into a smirk.

“Say you want me.”

Eve’s lips parted and she reached up to tangle her hand in blonde tresses, tilting her own head upward until their lips were centimeters apart.

“You. Want. Me.” She whispered and smiled. A growl of frustration filtered through Villanelle’s lips only to be cut off by the searing kiss Eve placed upon them. A moan followed closely behind an uncharacteristic squeak of shock as Eve’s tongue slipped into Villanelle’s mouth, caressing hers.

Deep, hesitant kisses turned frenzied, hands matching their desperation until all that separated their skin were thin layers of mesh, lace and satin.

Villanelle’s hand gravitated to Eve’s throat, nails leaving crescent moon-shaped indents. Eve pushed her away, the blonde’s hand drawing blood to the surface as it fell away. Villanelle caught herself just as her back slammed against the kitchen island. Eve followed, roughly pulling at the straps of Villanelle’s brassiere. 

Villanelle hooked an ankle around Eve’s and pulled, the two fell to the floor, blonde atop brunette. She took the knife from Eve and slid it down her throat. Trailing it between her breasts, Villanelle gauged Eve’s reaction. The older woman looked both terrified and turned on and couldn’t hold back a moan when Villanelle stopped between her breasts and cut the bra in half.

Eve rose up, helped her remove the scrap of material and gave a surprised yelp when Villanelle shoved her back down and buried her face in Eve’s neck. She bit down, hard and Eve cried out, yanking the blonde’s hair in an attempt to pull her away. 

Villanelle called out in pain, the sharp blade of the knife slipping and digging into Eve’s skin. They pushed and pulled, fighting each other for two different reasons. Eve, rebelled against the idea of giving in to Villanelle so quickly because this wasn’t supposed to be what she wanted. And Villanelle... well, she was taking what Eve truly wanted to give. 

Nails dragged across skin so angrily, pulling sanguine fluid to the surface and by the time Villanelle sucked one of Eve’s hardened nipples into her mouth, it tasted of rose soap and coppery taste of life. She flicked her tongue around the nub before releasing it and turning her attention onto the other. Eve’s back arched and pussy dripped. 

Lower and lower Villanelle’s mouth went until she sucked Eve’s pussy through her lace panties, eyes rolling closing at first taste. Eve squirmed and her back arched. She nipped at Eve’s clit before pulling her panties to the side and dipping her tongue within the slick folds. 

She licked and slurped, wet noises forcing Eve to concentrate on _not_ coming so quickly. But when Villanelle slid two fingers into her cube, abruptly, Eve nearly saw stars.

_Fuck, she was so good._

Unable to do anything but pant, Eve tapped Villanelle’s aem to get her attention. She made a come here motion and somehow Villanelle knew exactly what she wanted. The blonde swiveled her body, straddling Eve, readjusting her position until her pussy was directly seated on Eve’s mouth, blood from her leg wound smearing onto Eve’s face. But Eve could care less, she lapped it up right along with Villanelle natural lubricant, enjoying every drop. 

Eve hadn’t the foggiest idea what Villanelle liked, but she knew what she, herself, enjoyed, so she started there. Tentative licks and kisses until she gained her confidence from Villanelle’s moans that vibrated through her core, making her clench around the blonde’s fingers. 

She followed Villanelle’s lead, doing exactly what she did, learning from experience. Villanelle sucked, so did Eve. The rhythm of her fingers quickened or slowed, and Eve did too. and when Villanelle slipped a finger into Eve’s tight asshole, Eve cried out and did the same with Villanelle encouraging her with soft ‘yeah’s and ‘don’t you fucking stop’. They worked each other over until Eve’s hips pumped upwards on their own accord and Villanelle was grinding down on Eve’s face so hard, she feared a bone would crunch in her nose.

And when they came, it was together. 

Before either could catch their breath, Eve pushed Villanelle off of her. Shocked, the younger woman landed on her ass and was given no warning before Eve straddled her, slipping one leg over hers and pressing their sopping cunts together. 

“Fuck.”

Eve took ahold of Villanelle’s neck, applying pressure with every glide of their pussies, clits brushing together in a perfect rhythm. Villanelle used one hand to pinch Eve’s nipples hard and the other to choke her. 

“Yeah. Just like that.” The blonde grinned. She could get off just by the look of pure euphoric anger on Eve’s face. 

“I want to hurt you.” Eve panted. And she meant it. _Who the fuck did Villanelle think she was forcing her to be the person she was always meant to be? How fucking dare she open her eyes to an entire new universe of darkness?_

“Hurt me.” Villanelle said through gritted teeth just before Eve surprised her with an excruciating slap across the face. She followed it with a harsh kiss, teeth knocking together. Their hips rolled and their breathing quickened. Bodies grew taut and Eve claimed her victory. With her air supply nearly gone, Villanelle’s orgasm was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. 

Eve fucked her through that orgasm and straight through into the another one, and she was right behind her. Villanelle pinched her tits harder, thrusting upwards and rolling her hips, topping from the bottom. 

“Say you want me.” She growled again. 

“I want you.” Eve whispered. 

Villanelle slapped her across the face, and commanded “Again!”

“I want you.” 

The next slap was against Eve’s right breast and she found it surprisingly around. 

“Louder.”

“Fuck!” Eve was right there. _Just a little more…_

One last slap across her left tit and then to her face and Eve was _gone_. 

* * *

Villanelle was quiet. Eve was mute. Neither wanted to speak for fear of breaking the spell; for fear that Eve would run far and fast, and that Villanelle would suddenly kill her.

But neither did what the other expected. Instead, Villanelle drew a hot milk and tea bath in the enormous whirlpool tub, and gingerly helped Eve into it. Both winced as the healing water kissed their raw wounds. There was a certain intimacy about being nude in front of another, even if they weren’t touching. Eve sat on one side of the tub, knees to her chest, hands resting on top. Villanelle sat at the other, watching as a red ribbon of blood rose from her leg and turned pink as it floated through the haze of the milk bath. A perfect metaphor for them.

“Stay.” Villanelle finally murmured.

“I can’t.”

“Where will you go?” 

“Back to London.”

“What is there for you?”

 _Nothing_.

“Work.” Eve replied and used her hand to carry water to her knees, watching as it dripped down her thighs.

“You could work here.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“They’ll know I found you if I stay.”

Villanelle understood. “They will think you failed if you go back without me.”

Eve nodded. “Better that than you back in that godforsaken prison in Russia.”

The blonde nodded. “Will you come back?” 

_Yes._

“No.”

“Then I will come to you.” Villanelle told her, finality in her tone.

“You can’t.”

“I will get bored out here all alone, Eve. That is not a good thing.”

Eve chuckled. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

“Maybe next time you will not hate me.”

“I’ll always hate you.” Eve responded, but Villanelle wasn’t offended. She knew what Eve was really saying what she couldn’t.

“I’ll always hate you too.” Villanelle replied, cheeky smile on her face. Eve tried to hide her soft smile, but it was useless. The blonde always managed to disarm her; Eve could never understand how Villanelle could be a ruthless assassin while also bouncing such childlike energy. Eve used to believe that something happened to Villanelle when she was a child. Perhaps she had to grow up quickly, and now, this was her way of acting out. Whatever it was, it was solely Villanelle’s and it was exactly what kept Eve hooked, wondering what her next move would be.

Watching as Villanelle pulled a sea sponge loofah from a small wooden floating shelf beside the tub. “Come.”

“I’ve done enough of that, thank you.”

Villanelle grinned and reached over to take ahold of Eve’s wrist. She pulled her across the cloudy water and began a gentle cleansing of Eve’s cuts and scrapes.

* * *

_Connecticut, Three months later…_

It was strange being back home. Her parents were world travelers, barely ever setting foot back into the small town of New Milford except to occasionally check on Eve’s childhood home. Still, Eve had decided, it was better to end where she started, maybe even get a second chance at a normal life. Whatever the fuck _that_ meant. 

She’d been working as a manager in a coffeehouse haven for hipsters for a month or so. She walked through the scenic town, stopping at the post office to retrieve mail from her PO Box before heading home.

Once home, Eve let her hair down and went straight to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine. She downed the first glass, filled it up again and sat at the kitchen table, opening her mail. 

Bills. Bills. Bills. 

_Postcard_?

 _Greetings from Alaska!_ covered the top of the index card complete with a picture of stunning snow capped mountains and a thicket of trees. 

Eve flipped the card around and beamed. In Villanelle’s decadent calligraphy was a short, but welcoming message:

_See you soon, baby x_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could’ve done so much more with this sex scene but I’m literally so drunk right now, I can’t even add anything else.


End file.
